If miracles happen in a person's life, then he deserves them.
In the life of the theatrical teacher Yuri Pogrebnichko (the head of the theater), a miracle happened: his students understandably and gracefully, correctly and organically enter the past, which, simply by age, can have only an abstract idea.
How do they know how the only crepe de chine dress is worn, how should a decent girl behave in a village dancefloor, and how should she hold her back, pull a not-so-tattered glove, accept an invitation to dance?
How do they know how the songs of Soviet, totally unimaginable people sounded, as in every line falseness and tenderness intertwined?
"It's spinning and spinning. It's spinning and spinning old waltz. "
Ah, how far from the youth of the twenty-first century is the glorious Soviet past!
And the forties, when most men walked in greatcoats, and fifties with skirts bell and high hairstyles of women.
Young guys will gladly sing about the "factory checkpoint, which led me to people" and "the best city of the earth".
Do not forget the insanely popular "Besamucha". It will be performed by four young singers at once.
From lullaby to romance, from thieves to hits from the Beatles repertoire, and then, in the end, about a white birch tree.
Young people perform them sincerely and a little ironically and very diligently.
Actors - well done. The performance is simply wonderful, sincere.
"Do you hear the winds blowing alarming? It's time for us to part. "